Fae Touched (Fae Touched Book 1): Paranormal Romance

by Lisa Rae Roman

  The prince’s salacious gaze started at the healer’s sandaled feet, worked its way over her slender, bare legs to a pair of khaki shorts, lingered on the fitted tank top molding to her breasts—and landed on her mouth.

  “Pity,” he said, his tone unashamedly seductive.

  Gregory offered Lord Myles the navy coat with an unrestrained giggle.

  “I suggested you call another healer.” Beyond her cheeks turning a rosy hue, Regan seemed to ignore the blatant innuendo. She tossed the disposable cloth in the trash, snatched the green blazer denoting her medical status from the nearby chair and tugged it on with jerky motions.

  “You work for me, Miss Chandler.” The prince slid into his jacket. “Except for the queen, I will always be your priority,” he said, slicking the dark hair at his temples with the heels of his hands. “Get used to it.”

  Regan turned to Lady Rose; her eyebrows arched almost to her hairline.

  “He is my heir,” she answered the unspoken question, lips curving.

  “And a narcissist.”

  Abby gasped, but her sharp inhale was covered by Jenkins’ strangled laugh. The queen rapped the choking publicist soundly between his shoulder blades.

  The prince’s chiseled face went hard. “I’ll expect another healing session before I retire for the day,” he said, pinning the beauty with a glare that would have frightened a seasoned warrior. “And that’s an order, sugar.”

  “Whatever you say, milord.” Regan’s rich brown eyes met his glower without flinching. “Drink another half pint of blood. It’ll help the skin knit faster.” She paused at the door. “Puddin’ pop.”

  Abby’s hand flew to her mouth. Regan’s audacity was going to get her fired. Or worse.

  The witch waved goodbye and breezed from of the office without a backward glance.

  No one spoke a word as Gregory marched to the liquor cabinet. He grabbed a thermos bottle from the mini-fridge and poured the chilled blood into a large tumbler with ice, adding a generous shot of whiskey.

  The prince focused on the closed door, expression inscrutable. After a long moment, he nodded brusquely, lips slowly curling on his handsome face. “Mr. Hutchins, send the usual gift to Ms. Duval with my regrets,” he said, accepting the secretary’s proffered drink. “And while you’re at it, cancel any regional business outside ESC territory. I think it best if the queen and I remain within our borders until the situation has stabilized.”

  “I’ll take care of it right away, milord.” Gregory left to carry out his orders.

  Lord Myles strolled over to join the others already seated at the table.

  “I think that’s wise.” Jenkins faced Abby. “It’d also be a good idea for you and your brother to stay on property until things settle down.”

  “Is my sister in danger?” Conlan asked quietly. Too quietly.

  “Yes, actually, she is,” the prince said calmly, sipping his bloody drink. “And so are you, now that you’re home.”

  The significance of the word home sent Abby’s heart into panicked thundering. Did they expect her brother to swear allegiance to the ESC? And what would happen if he refused?

  “What’s going on?” Conlan gained volume as he studied her face—her hair. “Why the hell are you on Blood Island at all?”

  How did you get caught? Did you use your magic? Please tell me you weren’t that stupid?

  Abby heard the accusations as though spoken aloud.

  “I can explain,” she said, wanting to dispel the fear and disappointment in his voice.

  “Watch your tone, Jumper.” Samuel’s forearm crossed over her collarbone from behind, cupping her shoulder possessively. “She’s been through enough. I won’t tolerate any more.”

  “Exactly what has she been through, wolf?” Conlan shoved his chair back, surging upright. “And I still don’t know how the fuck she got the bruises on her face. There’d better be a damn good explanation or we’re gonna have issues beyond your hands and teeth being all over my baby sister.”

  “Glad to see you took my advice, Commander Walker.” The prince rubbed at his recently treated injury and made a toasting gesture with his drink. “One problem solved.”

  Samuel’s chest vibrated in warning, a low growl emerging from his throat.

  “Myles, now is not the time.” Lady Rose laced the command with cold steel.

  Abby’s cheeks burned with embarrassment, but she didn’t cover the Alpha’s Mark.

  “I’m sorry.” All she seemed to be doing lately was apologizing. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” But it had, and now they knew Conlan was a talented Na’fhuil.

  Her brother sighed, the anger draining from his eyes, sadness replacing the earlier hardness. “No, I’m sorry,” he said, straightening his chair and sitting heavily. “I should’ve come for you sooner.”

  “It wouldn’t have changed anything. But what about you?” She stared meaningfully at his hair, the blanched strands impossible to hide as they couldn’t be dyed. “You pushed your magic too far today.” And evidently not for the first time.

  Her brother glanced away, scrubbing his scalp. “I shouldn’t have Jumped so many times with you along for the ride.”

  “No, you shouldn’t have.” Samuel let Abby go and dropped the bag of pastries on the table, retrieving a giant muffin and napkin. “She can’t eat,” he practically snarled, pulling her toward the food she could barely stand to look at, let alone smell.

  The friction between Samuel and her brother was tangible, the arrival of a grim-faced Tucker doing nothing to improve the undisguised tension.

  Noah shuffled behind the beta with his eyes glued to the hardwood floor. The flirtatious and confident shifter unusually subdued.

  “Commander—”

  Samuel held up his hand, halting whatever Tucker was about to say. He waited for Noah to draw near before clasping the side of his neck and bending until their foreheads were almost touching. “Noah, say hello to my Abby.”

  The shifter’s demeanor did a complete one-eighty, head popping up, megawatt grin training on his Alpha and then swinging to her. “Hey, gorgeous.” His nose went high, chest expanding with an exaggerated inhale. “You stink.”

  “I…I what?” Abby sputtered.

  Noah took her hand in both of his, placing it over his heart as Buck had at the shooting range. His light brown eyes were bright. “You smell like my uncle,” he said cheerfully. “And it’s about damn time, too.”

  Conlan made an unhappy choking noise and cursed under his breath. Samuel cuffed the unrepentant shifter upside the head and told him to take a seat.

  Noah threw her a wink, and Abby tried not to smile.

  “So, Lieutenant Tucker,” the prince cut in dryly. “Before we discuss Mr. MacCarthy’s fortuitous arrival, what did you find out about the fire in Germantown that was apparently started by a witch?”

  “Nothing left,” he said and began to pace. “No proof.”

  “There wouldn’t be, would there?” The prince swirled his drink.

  “It had to be a catalyst spell fueling the fire,” Samuel said. “Nothing else explains why the flames spread so quickly.” He yanked out the chair next to Conlan and sat, bringing Abby onto his lap with an easy tug.

  Flushing to her roots, she sat stiffly on his knee. His lips came to her ear. “Stay,” the utterance a heartfelt request as much as a demand.

  Blowing a nervous breath, she nodded.

  “The house was nothing but smoldering embers by the time we arrived”

  “It had to be the same spell used to ignite the queen’s forest over six weeks ago and the BBQ restaurant this past winter,” Noah added.

  “You have witches working against the Fae Touched?” Conlan asked, tension rolling off her brother in waves. “And the newscast said it was rogue vampires who attacked the queen?”

  “Yes, to both. You know something.” Samuel made it a statement, not a question.

  “Maybe.”

  “If you have any informati
on at all,” Lady Rose beseeched him, “please tell us.”

  Samuel pulled Abby farther into the crook of his body.

  “You trust everyone in this room, Gails?” Conlan asked, glaring at the arm embracing her protectively. His chest rose and fell in agitation, ruddy color slashing his high cheekbones.

  She smiled wanly at her brother, forced her spine to relax, and considered.

  Did she trust them?

  She trusted the three shifters without reservation and believed in Lady Rose. The queen had confidence in Carter Jenkins’ loyalty, but she also had complete faith in her heir. Abby? Not so much.

  Reading her hesitancy, the prince brought the grisly cocktail to his exquisite mouth, watching her coolly over the rim. He tipped the glass and drained it in one gulp, his gaze never leaving hers.

  “No, not really.” She bit at her lower lip. “But I think we need to.”

  Accepting the banana nut pastry from Samuel, she pinched off a small piece and forced it into her mouth. She chewed. Swallowed. Tried not to gag.

  “How much do they know about the facility?” Conlan observed her closely as she ate, his brow wrinkled in concern. “About halfbloods?”

  Saliva gathered on her tongue. Her stomach pitched.

  “Some.” His ability to Jump through barriers wouldn’t have gone unnoticed, and her brother knew it. “More after today,” she said, breathing shallowly through her nose and out with her mouth.

  “Yeah.” His lips firmed stubbornly. “I’m not saying another word until I know how the hell you were injured.”

  Abby broke off another portion of the muffin, stared at it defiantly and brought it slowly to her lips. Samuel grasped her wrist, halting its progress. He removed the tiny bite and tossed both parts into the sack. She shuddered at the reprieve.

  His ensuing sigh as he gathered her hair and smoothed it down her spine was long-suffering. Samuel delved knuckles deep into its thickness, sifting through the length while he updated her brother on the events beginning with the assassination attempt, still stroking rhythmically as he ended at the attempted kidnapping.

  “Let me see if I’ve got this straight.” Saying Conlan wasn’t happy would be an understatement. “Ambassador Faraday is working with the director. He’s using me to blackmail Abby into spying on the queen and eventually returning to the facility. My sister’s ribs were cracked and her jaw almost dislocated by a blood-crazed vampire. Someone else,” he said, looking bitterly at Samuel, “tried to abduct her for her magic. And none of you have any idea who was behind the attempt?”

  “That about sums it up, Mr. MacCarthy,” the prince said, setting his empty glass on the table and leaning back in his chair. “But your sister has been in our employ for weeks. I’d like to know why you’ve waited so long to come to her rescue? Frankly, I expected you to show up long before now.”

  “I lied to him. He was out of the country and didn’t know I was brought to the island.” Abby grabbed her brother’s hand. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want you to worry.”

  “Gails, I wasn’t out of the country. I haven’t been for months.” He squeezed her fingers and let go. “And you’re not that good a liar.”

  “What?” Abby felt Samuel go rigid.

  “I suspected you were in trouble when you missed the deadline and then didn’t mention the incident at La Bella when you finally called.” Conlan dragged a hand over his weary face. “I was hoping you weren’t working in the store after sundown that night, but the second I heard your voice—”

  “You knew I was lying.” Her throat closed, and moisture filled her eyes. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  Why didn’t you come for me?

  “I was in the middle of a crucial assignment for the facility,” he explained. “There was no exit for my charge except in a casket if I bailed. But I would have discovered a way if I thought you were in danger. They assured me you were safe, and would stay that way as long as I finished the mission.”

  “Assured by whom?” The queen demanded to know.

  “The director.”

  “The facility knew where I was?” And Conlan hadn’t told her? “How long have they known?”

  “Since Massachusetts.”

  Abby shook her head in denial. “But they didn’t catch me in Boston. I got away. You sent me a new identity, and I made it to Vegas.”

  “Squirt…” Conlan held her gaze, his jaw working as though chewing glass.

  “They knew where I was the whole time,” she whispered. “And you let me believe I was free? Why?”

  “I’m your big brother and you were hurting,” he said, his pain a raw scrape on Abby’s skin. “You needed a break after the assignment with the senator went sideways. So, I did what I had to do to make that happen.”

  “I knew it,” Noah murmured.

  “You traded your safety for mine.” Abby’s mouth felt like it had filled with sawdust and she struggled to swallow. Samuel rested his chin on the top of her head, the weight somehow reassuring.

  “And I’d do it again.”

  “Won’t the facility come after you?” Jenkins asked.

  “They can kiss my ass. As far as I’m concerned, my contract has officially expired.”

  “The facility may have been willing to ignore my absence for a while because I’m just a Walker, but they want me back now that others know what I am,” Abby reminded him. “And as a Jumper, you’re more valuable to them than I ever was.”

  “The director forfeited any claim on me when he didn’t uphold his end of the bargain.” His voice lowered, softened. “And you will always be more important than me, squirt. Always.”

  Abby wasn’t stupid. A skilled Jumper like Conlan could have escaped when away on assignments. Her brother only stayed because she had no way out.

  When in the compound, he’d been forced to wear an iron bracelet; the toxic metal diminished his ability to Jump with a passenger, which effectively preempted any attempt at the siblings fleeing together. Controlling a Jumper’s family had been the facility’s preferred method for keeping a captured Na’fhuil in line for centuries. But Conlan continuing to work for them after she’d run should have clued Abby in that something was terribly wrong.

  Had she been so selfishly consumed with pain and regret that she didn’t once question why her brother hadn’t left the facility when finally given the chance?

  “What deal did you make with the director, Conlan?”

  He ignored Abby’s question and addressed Lady Rose. “Any idea how somebody else found my sister?”

  “I am not sure. Besides Consul Monroe and his second in command, both of whom I trust implicitly, knowledge of Abigail’s origins is limited to those in this room. What about the facility?”

  “They’ve managed to keep our kind under wraps for more than a century. It’s hard to believe they’d share the reemergence of the Na’fhuil with any of the Fae Touched leaders. What about the vamps who tried to kill you?”

  “Doubtful,” the queen said. “Samuel beheaded the one who might have figured it out. The others would have been too busy defending themselves to notice what your sister did. Even if they suspected something unusual happened, I do not think they would have come to the correct conclusion.” Her tone hardens. “Now, what do you know about the rogue Dádhe in my region?”

  “The ESC is not the only territory dealing with an influx of unidentified vampires.”

  “What?” Jenkins half-rose from his chair. “We would have heard something if that was true.”

  “Have you informed anyone outside this office that none of the country’s Dádhe Houses will claim the five would-be assassins?”

  “No.” The liaison’s mouth pinched above his trim beard. “And all deny having any vampires unaccounted for, which would imply those in our territory weren’t rogues, but illegally Infused humans.”

  Abby couldn’t imagine anything that would be worse for the magical community, besides killing the Untouched outright—like someone tried to do at Ch
ess.

  Dádhe laws regulating feedings and restricting Infusions had been in existence since the end of the European Blood Wars. Subsequent agreements over the years were refined to accommodate individual countries’ requirements for peaceful cohabitation, but worldwide, the punishment for an unauthorized transition remained unchanged: the public execution of the Infusing vampire.

  “Turning random humans is risky as transitions often fail,” Lady Rose said. “And forming an unsanctioned House does not make sense. What would be the purpose?”

  “Fae Touched all over the world feel oppressed by the human governments surrounding them, despite our sovereign status,” Conlan said. “They believe nonhumans are the superior species in everything but numbers and should be in power. Can you think of a faster way to bridge that gap than by creating more Dádhe?”

  “The magical population will never exceed the nonmagical one,” the prince said. “It’s not possible, and the radical groups who think we could win another race war are delusional. Even if thousands of humans were transitioned under the governments’ noses, the fledglings wouldn’t be trained warriors.

  “The Anwyll make up the largest segment of our community, but along with their recent complacency and the scarcity of ingredients for stronger ink,” he continued, gaze running deliberately over the Ferwyn at the table, “fewer every generation are taught battle magic. Shifters are undeniably fierce warriors but aren’t prolific breeders and never will be. The Fae Touched preternatural strengths won’t be enough to overcome modern weaponry, and a skilled sword arm won’t stop them as it did long ago. We’d be decimated within weeks without a powerful military ally backing the rebellion.”

  “I am still finding it hard to believe any Fae Touched would want to help humans start a war we cannot win,” Lady Rose said.

  “The evidence is proving otherwise.” The prince rose and put his hands in his pockets. “And the informant we discussed sending to investigate has confirmed it.”

  “You chose an operative without consulting me?” Samuel asked, bristling. “And then deployed him without my approval?”

  “I am the prince, Commander Walker. I don’t need your approval.”